Holding the Dubious “Cute Kitten” Remark Over My Husband’s Head.

If you look over to the side and scroll down you will see the “real” me on the blogger page link.
I had mentioned  that I started using my real-life photo, because I wanted to stop being fearful of putting the real me out there. Then innocently or stupidly, whatever the case may be, said something about not wanting to continue hiding behind a cute kitten photo.
An individual, not be named,then said something like “funny, I thought it was a photo of a cute kitten”
So,after groaning audibly, I gave the poor near-sighted fellow a more civil reply than I felt like giving.
But, then I had a wicked thought, I can hold this over my husband’s head.
Oh, yeah ..you think I stink..well..someone out there thinks I’m cute.
Not only that, but I’m a cute kitten.
Makes no difference that I have no idea WTH that means.
It just seems to add more punch with the “kitten” attached.
So, on the rare times when I fight with my spouse I am going to throw the “cute kitten” thing at him and see what happens.
So, would you hold something over your spouse’s head? Hopefully it won’t be a cute kitten.

 

Illustration of very cute kitten - stock vector
Meow!
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Author:

I am me and nobody else. One of a kind just like the rest of the world.

8 thoughts on “Holding the Dubious “Cute Kitten” Remark Over My Husband’s Head.

  1. I hold things over hub’s head all the time…..skillets, anvils, flower pots. But a nice, juicy, retort is best saved for the right time. 🙂

  2. Nothing I could hold over my husband’s head compares to what the kids hold over him: they will never let him forget that because of his allergies, we had to return the dog we had for a whole 8 days a few years ago. He never thought he’d be allergic; he grew up around dogs. But after a few days he was having trouble breathing; had to get an inhaler. He went to the allergist, and his skin testing showed huge reactions to dogs (and cats), so Abby had to go. My youngest framed an 8X10 photo of Abby and will often bring it down and put it on the table near my husband’s spot, just to spite him. 🙂

  3. I hold a motorcycle over my husband’s head. The fact that I bought it for him, I mean. I bought it even though we could not reasonably afford it, and despite the fact that it scares me half to death. I’m terrified to ride on it with him, I worry myself sick every time he’s out riding, and if he ever gets seriously hurt or killed on that bike I will absolutely go permanently insane. (That’s opposed to my periodic bouts of temporary insanity, which can happen for any random reason, at any time. A broken shoe lace… a broken fingernail… running out of chocolate… I broke a nail helping my hubby put the blown down fence back up yesterday, and I was really upset. Good thing I had chocolate.)

    I bought the motorcycle for my best-friend-husband and surprised him with it, because he wanted a motorcycle more than anything in the world. He earned it the hard way, too, in combat in Vietnam. And yet he was going to selflessly go along with my wishes to NOT buy a bike with his veterans disability lump sum payment that he got after years of fighting for it. The money he finally got was far less than we had expected, far less than it should have been, and it was not nearly enough to pay off our bills, and also buy the bike he had been drooling over. So he sadly agreed with me that he was going to do the “sensible thing” and pay off our debt and forget about the bike. He said, “I know that probably makes you happy, since you didn’t want me to buy a bike in the first place.”

    OH! There was no way I could be happy, because I felt so bad! I love that bald headed guy so much, and seeing him sad makes me sad! So very early the next morning, before he had a chance to spend that money paying off bills, I sneaked out of the house and drove down to the motorcycle dealership and bought him the bike I knew he wanted. He was still asleep when I came back home, so I put the bike keys in his hand and woke him up with a kiss…OH how he cried! When we went to get his bike, the salesman, to whom I had already told the story of why I was buying the bike, also cried!

    That was 2 years ago this July, and I have been holding that motorcycle over my husband’s head ever since. I keep telling him, very reasonably I think, that considering how awesome and wonderful I was to do that for him, he now owes it to me to let me have my way about everything all the time, from now on, for the entire rest of our lives.

    But each time I tell him that, he just laughs. Like he thinks I’m joking. Then he puts on his leather chaps and his helmet and goggles and goes riding merrily off down the highway.

    Men. Can’t live with them, can’t take their motorcycle away from them.

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